Good in Passion
by Guacameowle
Summary: Watching him from the sidelines again, you suddenly realize that in a way… you've marked him. An imprint of your lips are on his and photos of it are going to be splashed across advertisements and stores for everyone to see.


You squinted your eyes as yet another series of flashing lights went off, reflecting off of the white backdrop. The entire room felt cold and sterile, aside from the bustle of people striding back and forth hurriedly going about their work… and of course _him_.

This was far from a world you were familiar with. It was glamorous, fast-paced, and reeked of posh attitudes. Now more than ever you were grateful he somehow still managed to stay his usual kind and sweet self, though ever narcissistic.

Once again, without conscious thought, your eyes flickered over to him standing tall and suave in front of the numerous cameras pointed at him. His handsome face was cast in a model's scowl, staring at a camera head-on, smoldering for the shot. As the flash went off you knew it was likely to be another perfect picture, one girls and boys everywhere would rip out of their magazines and stick to their bedroom walls.

How many people fantasized about him? How many people had deemed him the reason for their "sexual-awakening"?

These weren't thoughts you preferred to dwell on but lately they were cropping up more often than not.

You were fascinated at how casually he took all this in stride, changing his pose and facial expressions fluidly, innately, after each series of flashes without having to even be directed to do so.

A few more shots and he was being directed behind the backdrop for another outfit ensemble. Before he turned the corner his eyes sought you out. When he saw you his scowl disappeared, facial features relaxing, his pursed lips morphing into a bright smile, a wink thrown in your direction. He disappeared before you could even smile back.

How many outfit changes had he gone through by now? Today alone he wore more clothes than you were certain you even owned. Not to mention, the foundation you'd seen the make-up artist put on him had most definitely cost as much as your monthly electric bill.

He sure did lead a glamorous life these days. You were happy for him, really you were. His dream was coming true. The up-and-coming actor was now the heavily-in-demand actor/model/sex icon. It was your job to be the supporting friend, encourage him in his pursuits, be there to listen to his woes, boost him up when he felt down-trodden. You and Jaehee took this "job" very seriously.

For the most part you'd felt you had done a great job at it… until recently.

You'd tried making small talk with those around you, the other models. Their conversations had started out cordial enough until they realized you were a "nobody."

"Ah, so you're not in the industry. Are you Zen's… girlfriend then?" You recognized the glimmer of jealousy and nihilism in the model's eyes quick enough.

"Oh, no. I'm just a friend." You'd smile at them and brace yourself for the rest of their questions, but none ever came.

That's how every conversation today had essentially transpired. Once you were deemed not a threat or not one with connections (little did they know you were in-charge of the RFA guest list) they'd give you a thin fake smile and go off about their business.

'Just a friend.' Suddenly that phrase no longer seemed to hold the strength and pride it used to for you. Now when you spoke it or even thought it, you felt thorns prick along your skin.

You weren't naïve; you just weren't inclined to dwell on analyzing the change in your feelings. After all, nothing good could come of it. It wasn't like he had given you any inclination he returned your budding sentiments. You weren't keen on starting a scandal either.

So far, nobody seemed none the wiser to your feelings. Perhaps you'd put up a good enough act for no one to question you. You'd figured hiding these emotions would get easier over time. If anything though, the past few months proved that to be false.

You rolled your eyes at yourself. So much for not analyzing your feelings. Here you were, doing just that whilst hovering amongst the shadows of the photoshoot you had no real business being privy to.

You'd heard from Zen yesterday he was getting some new shots done. Immediately, Jaehee and Yoosung requested signed copies. You'd offered to swing by Zen's place to pick them up as you were the only one not busy at the time. You told yourself you didn't have ulterior motives.

Really you didn't.

… You were kidding yourself.

Zen had called you after his workout that evening asking if you'd like to go see the shoot in person. You had to shake your head to refocus your mind on his question instead of the sounds of his panting across the line from his recent jog.

Honestly though, did he have to be good at _everything_? Including panting?

Before you knew what you were doing you'd consented to going to the photoshoot.

You couldn't help but wonder, why had he sounded so happy when you agreed to go? For that matter, over the past few weeks had he been calling you more than usual? And were you just imagining that when he greeted you with his customary kiss on the cheek he tended to linger? Was it also just your imagination that when your eyes glanced over to him at RFA meetings he was staring at you? And why did his frequent terms of endearment suddenly sound… _sincere_?

It had to have been just wishful thinking on your part.

You were pulled from your mental wanderings when Zen walked back onto the set dressed in all black. Black button down, black slacks, sleek black shoes. He looked fantastic.

He looked fantastic in whatever he wore.

 _He'd probably look fantastic not wearing anything._

You fought the urge to not smack yourself on the forehead for your stray thoughts. You didn't want to draw anymore unnecessary attention to yourself.

As soon as Zen took his position, a handful of individuals rushed over to him, their hands busying themselves over his body adjusting his hair, fixing his clothes, and applying more make-up. Within moments they were rushing away, stepping off set just as the series of flashes from the cameras started up again.

Soon a tall, stern looking, but fashionable man, whom you assumed was the director of this shoot, yelled for more models.

As if on cue, a line of girls, some of whom you recognized as your previous interrogators from early on in the day, strode out on the set with Zen. They were all tall and slender, dresses skin tight, their hair coiffed to perfection and make-up giving off sultry vibes. Utterly flawless… in physical appeal.

They all took various positions around him and in unison began to place their hands on him.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched them pose as if they were dragging their hands across his body. Hands stationed across his chest, his neck, his arms, his thighs…

The sinking feeling in your stomach could only be explained by one emotion you hadn't ever wanted to associate yourself with…

 _Jealousy._

It didn't help that all the models seemed to be _thoroughly_ enjoying themselves. As Zen changed positions for each shot, you could blatantly see the pleasure, lust even, in the models' eyes as they readjusted their grip and touch on him.

You told yourself the blinding flashing lights were what caused you to turn and look away, not the image of Zen having the hands of several women strewn across him.

It felt like an eternity before the lights finally stopped flashing and the click click click of stilettos could be heard exiting the set.

A sigh left your lips as you turned back to see what would be happening next.

You hadn't expected to see Zen looking right at you when you turned back, his shoulders tense even from at a distance, his eyes staring at you unwaveringly.

You weren't exactly sure what he was trying to convey, but he looked worried. Jaehee's mantra of supporting him in his career surfaced amongst your thoughts and instantly a smile zapped across your face hoping to assuage whatever thought had caused him to become so strained.

His russet eyes flickered across your face for a moment before the director's shout drew his attention away.

"Where is the lip model?!" The bellowing echoed throughout the set. Lip model?

A pretty young girl with a dazzling smile on her face pranced out from behind the screen, her eyes traveling up and down Zen's frame as she went past, throwing him a wink.

In three smooth strides Zen was in front of the director, whispering something in the other man's ear. The moment he was finished speaking, there was a staring contest of sorts between them both. Zen's look of cool confident determination never wavered, glaring the other man down with ease. His height advantage made him appear more menacing.

After a few tense seconds the director gave a curt nod.

Smoothly, Zen turned on his heel and returned to his position on the set. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck from side to side. You thought perhaps you saw the faint beginnings of a smile spreading across his lips, his hands casually sliding into his pockets. You weren't entirely certain it was a smile you saw as his hair fell over his face as he continued to look down. He shuffled his foot across an imaginary spot on the floor, scuffing the bottom of his shoes on the set.

He was fidgeting, something you'd hardly ever seen him do.

The director casually walked up to the supposed "lip model" and spoke a few words to her. From your distance you couldn't hear what was being said, but based on the physical reaction the girl had it wasn't something she was too pleased with. A grimace settled across her face, distorting her pretty looks. She shot a glare at Zen, who was looking down with his hands in his pockets still as if trying to appear casual, and stomped off the set with a huff.

The director rolled his eyes and turned… directly to you.

He pointed one finger at you and with a flick of his wrist turned his hand palm up and crooked said finger in a "come here" motion.

You took a quick glance around you to be sure he was actually looking at you and nobody else. That quick glance led you to realize you were actually standing entirely alone in this particular corner of the set.

At his look of frustration, you kick started your legs and quickly scampered to his side, lest you should make him angry. After all, Zen was currently working for this man, you didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize this deal.

You put on your best smile and stood tall. "Yes, sir, may I be of assistance?" Your voice was sweet, tone implying you were eager to please. Anything for Zen.

The director's eyes cast up and down your body taking in your appearance. Your hair had been swept up into a messy up-do, surely by now tendrils falling out of it haphazardly. You weren't dressed like a model, that was for sure. Simple jeans that you thought made your ass look great and a soft cotton V-neck t-shirt. When his eyes fell to your ballet flat slip-on shoes you resisted the urge to curl your toes and fidget. Let him judge all he wanted, you liked how you looked.

His eyes flew up to hone in on your face, focusing heavily on your lips. He contemplated a bit before he sighed & mumbled a "you'll do" before turning away.

You were about to question what exactly he meant by that before Zen's voice whispered directly into your ear from behind you. You jumped a little a hearing him so close, you hadn't even heard him walk up to you.

"Just pick a shade that'll suit me, yeah?" When you turn your head to face him you suddenly realize how close he is and you can't help the zing of excitement that courses through you.

He's bent slightly at the waist to accommodate your slightly lower stature than his, hands still held causally in his pockets. He smells so lovely. His eyes alight with some boyish charm, a small encouraging small lighting up his features. His eyes flick rapidly between yours before dropping to glance at your lips, his own parting slightly as he visibly swallows.

You've never felt this nervous around him before. The way he's looking at you is making you feel dizzy.

Just as you're about to work yourself out of your daze to ask what he meant by "shade" the director turns back with a tray holding an assortment of lipstick cases and places it on the table in front of you.

"When you've decided let one of the make-up artists know. They'll apply it for you. Don't dawdle." With a sharp look at Zen he turns and walks away. Now you're thoroughly confused.

"Mind explaining what's going on?" There's a sharp bite in your tone that causes Zen to flinch a little.

One of Zen's perfectly manicured hands reaches out to grab one of the lipsticks from the tray. He makes every effort to avoid eye contact with you.

"Well, one of my gigs is advertising this lipstick company." He wiggles the lipstick case between his fingers, eyes still trained elsewhere.

"Yes, and…?" This didn't count as dawdling if you were discussing work, right?

"And…" he takes a deep breath as if to brace himself, "I need someone to put it on me." He finally looks over at you to see if you finally get his meaning.

Obviously he doesn't mean a make-up artist as you were just told they'd be the ones putting it on you, so that meant…

Zen watches as recognition works its way across your features.

Putting lipstick on Zen. With your lips. Your lips. Zen. Your lips on Zen.

Sure, you'd given him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek every now and then, but this… this was different.

You felt your cheeks flush and you turned to look down at the shades presented to you. It made sense now; the angry lip model, the director staring at your lips when he called you over...

Maybe if you told yourself this was for Zen's career and supporting him, you could get through it unscathed. No harm, no foul. You could do this.

You gave a deliberate nod, judicial even, and cleared your throat.

"Right. So, which shade would, uh, look best on you?" There was an assortment of purples, creams, pinks, and reds. Your fingers idly picked up a cream colored shade and flipped it over to read the name.

The label read 'Pure Zen.' Well that explained why he was the model for this brand. Perhaps all the colors were marketed around him.

"Really, any of them would be fine actually, haha." At least his narcissism was still intact even though your nerves were nearly in tatters.

He picks up a shade of bright red and looks at it before looking at you and back again.

"This one is called 'Passion.'" He looks over at you in earnest now, his lips quirking into a smirk. "I think you'd look good in it." His voice is lower, more intimate, when he says it. Your breath catches in your throat for the second time today.

You reach out to grab the lipstick from him, your fingers casually brushing against his, the simple touch making you feel a little warmer. Your cheeks probably match the lipstick by this point.

"Let's go with this one then." You tear your gaze away from him, looking down at the lipstick in your palm, acting like you're thoroughly interested in it.

Within seconds someone is standing in front of you with their palm outstretched. You look up to see a cute guy, roughly your age, spectacles low on his nose, hair tussled to perfection, and with high cheekbones.

"Heya, doll. Name's Mav. Is this the shade you want? Allow me." He gives you a bright smile and gently takes the lipstick from you. Ah, so he's the make-up artist.

As he goes about getting his lipstick brush ready, Zen turns to walk back to the set and gets in position again without another word to you.

This is really happening. You're about to kiss Zen.

Yes, it's for a job.

But you're going to kiss Zen.

You jump slightly when you feel a brush touch your lips and look to see the Mav smiling.

"Sorry, doll. Should have warned ya I was gettin' started. Just stay still for me, part your lips a little, and give me a pout." You try to do as he says, but the action of holding your lips still for someone else is a bit awkward.

Mav finishes his work in no time and turns a small mirror towards you to check his work. Your lips look fuller than they ever have, over-lined slightly to give them a more plump appearance, the silky texture of the lipstick feels luxurious.

"I had to over-accentuate a bit. You have great lips, but we need a good solid pucker shape on Zen for the shot to look good." He smiles at your blush. "Ah, nervous are ya?" He winks at you. "I think I'd be too if I were about to kiss that man."

You fight the urge to fidget or bite your lips, afraid of ruining Mav's work and holding up the shoot any longer.

"Well, doll, lay a good one on him. If not for you, then at least for me!" His smile is cheeky and teasing. You can't help but like his bubbly attitude.

"Thank you, Mav." With a bright smile and a nod, you turn to face Zen who currently had people fussing over his hair and clothes again. Did you just see someone spray breath freshener in his mouth?!

Oh God, this is really happening.

Thankfully your legs seem to move on their own as you walk onto the set and closer to the object of your rather recent _naughty_ desires.

Everyone seems to part and slink off the set, the lights shining brighter around you as you approach Zen.

Your body comes to a stop just before his. You can only hope your extreme nervousness doesn't show. This is for his job. You can support him. It's only one kiss. With Zen. It'll be quick.

God, did he have to look this good right now?!

His smiling is dashing, eyes illuminated under the bright lights, the deep ruby red hypnotizing you.

"It looks good!" His smile widens as he looks down at you, fondness blatant in his eyes. You both have always been fond of one another though, so it didn't strike you as different. "Just uh, aim for the side of my mouth. We don't want it to look like I'm wearing the lipstick…" He trails off sheepishly.

A stray thought that perhaps he's just as nervous about this as you are crosses your mind before you wave it off as being ridiculous. He's a professional.

"Sure. Right." Your clipped words do little to hide your nervousness. Hopefully he doesn't hear the sound of your frantic heartbeat or see that your palms are sweaty as you clench them.

He visibly swallows again as he stares at your lips.

"Ok babe, let's do this." His voice is a whisper just for you.

He bends a bit to lean towards you, the sweet scent of the fancy cologne on him flowing through your nostrils and making you dizzy. You bring a hand up to his chest to steady yourself but as soon as you make contact with his firm pectorals your legs almost turn to jelly. He's never affected you this much before.

His eyes are half-lidded and focused on your lips as you get closer, his soft breaths breezing over your cheeks confirming your suspicions of breath freshener, the light minty scent mingling with the cologne.

You rise on tip-toe to stretch the last bit of distance, pucker your lips, aim for the side of his mouth, hold your breath, and lean in…

Zen's eyes immediately snap shut and a hand comes to clasp your waist, fingers digging in slightly and tugging you just a bit closer.

You can't help it when your own eyes close as you fall victim to the sensation. Even though it's less of a kiss and more of a pressing of lips together, the tingle that travels down your spine and the somersaults of your stomach suggests the obvious…

You're so head-over-heels for this boy.

Zen gives a small groan, his body pressing closer to you as he takes a small step. The sound of his groan causes you to gasp and slightly part your lips along his. You suddenly remember that you're expected to leave a perfect kiss print, not a smudged one, and pull away frantically.

When your eyes focus you see Zen's eyes still shut, his head following your movement trying to catch your lips again with his.

 _If only you could._

You give a gentle push on his chest with your shaky hand still stationed there and call his name, your voice wispy.

At the sound of his name his eyes flash open and he snaps up to his full height, his hand falling from you as he suddenly remembers where he is.

His lips open and close a few times as he looks at you. His flustered appearance is very enticing and you can't help but feel accomplished at having made him that way.

The blush on his cheeks compliments the red strain on his lips wonderfully. You hadn't expected to feel so smug, but you definitely do. Clearly, he enjoyed that just as much as you did.

"How," he abruptly clears his throat when he hears how raspy he sounds, "how does it look?"

Aside from a small smudge where you lower lip had been placed, it's picture perfect. A wonderful red pucker just along the left side of his lips. The electric red matches the red tint of his eyes under the bright lights flawlessly.

With a coy smile thrown his way you whisper, "It's perfect."

He has enough time to give you a smile before you're ushered off set by one of the assistant directors.

Watching him from the sidelines again, you suddenly realize that in a way… you've marked him. An imprint of your lips are on his and photos of it are going to be splashed across advertisements and stores. That thought alone made you immensely happy.

The set hadn't lasted much longer after that. Soon enough you were both back at his apartment where he excused himself to take a quick shower to wash off all the make-up, product, and perfumes off himself.

Sitting around idly waiting for him had your thoughts straying again. He'd obviously enjoyed that "kiss," right? You wanted to kiss him again, properly this time.

If now was the time for truth-telling, you want to do much more than kissing and you had for a while. He invaded your dreams, days and night. Obscene images flashing through your mind at the most inconvenient of times; in RFA meetings as your eyes raked across his body when he wasn't looking, imagining the feel of his taunt muscles as he worked his body rhythmically over yours, or when at one of his shows, imagining yourself slipping backstage and surprising him in his dressing room afterwards, having him fuck you against on his vanity until you were screaming his name so loud his cast mates would know exactly what the both of you were doing.

And now when he was just in the next room, naked and wet. You could slip under the cascading water with him, press him against the tiles of his shower, slide your hands along his wet skin, clasp his neck for leverage before sliding one leg around his hip to get the angle right, tilt your hips and…

The sound of what seemed like a shampoo bottle falling shook you from your fantasy.

A frustrated groan left your lips as your head fell back against the chair you were sitting in. You were so wound up, you needed to hurry and get home so you could find some release. The memory of Zen's warm soft lips against your own, if only briefly, was at the forefront of your mind. His groan. The way his hand tightened against you pulling you to him.

You found your hand slipping down your abdomen as if it had a mind of its own, fingers wiggling beneath the waist of your jeans and your panties to find your clit slick, hot, and swollen.

The first brush of your fingers had you sighing. You shouldn't be doing this in Zen's apartment when he was just in the next room, but it felt… _so good_.

You bit and licked at your lips, seeking to find a remnant of the taste of Zen only to find the bitter zing of the remaining lipstick.

Each swipe of your fingers against your clitoris has your mind reeling, delirious from pleasure. Your eyes slipping shut, focusing on the sound of your breathing, the zaps of pleasure building at the apex of your thighs, the faint drone of running water in the background. You were so hot and wet.

Little mewls and whimpers of pleasure drip from you as your hips roll in time with your fingers. You struggle to remain quiet enough that Zen won't hear you in the shower.

"Uhhn, Zen… oh God, Zen… Zen…" The pants of his name fall deaf to anyone but you. You imagine his lithe digits on you. His voice in your ear, whispering that he needs you, wants to make you cum and scream his name. Zen is the one rubbing circles along your clit, sliding up and down your labia, penetrating your –

The sounds of the shower turning off stills you. With your hand now motionless in your pants you hold your breath, listening to any sign he's exiting the bathroom. A few moments later you hear the sound of a hair dryer starting, your breath wooshing out of you in relief.

You relax your body again, focusing once more on your pleasure. You work your fingers faster against your clit, willing your body to find release sooner rather than later. You're gasping, the air in your lungs burning with each intake.

"Ah… yeah, Zen… please, I… Zen…" The mantra of his name becoming the only thing from your lips as you finally feel the taunt string of your orgasm snap. You slap your free hand to your mouth, hoping to stifle your moans as your body convulses, legs clamping shut around your hand, back bowing from the chair.

You pull your hand from your pants as your body sinks back into the chair. Your fingers are coated with your slick arousal, thin strings of the fluid weaving between them.

Watching the sheen of the fluid on your fingers, you realize you should feel ashamed at what you'd just done, should know that your feelings for Zen are unacceptable for that of a "fan" and "supporter of his career."

 _You didn't care_.

You didn't care that you'd just masterbated in his living room or that you've envisioned, in explicit detail, which surfaces of his apartment you want fuck him on.

You did care that you wanted him. Not because he was famous, but because he was the most compassionate, charming, handsome, caring, thoughtful, sexiest man you'd ever laid eyes on. His words stole your breath away. His laughter was musical. His glance alone made you quiver and your cunt weep.

Footsteps had you quickly wiping your hands against your jeans, thanking yourself you'd had the forethought to wear dark wash in hopes the liquid stains wouldn't be noticeable. You adjusted your posture, sitting up quickly, placing your hands in your lap just as Zen walked in.

He was dressed for comfort now, light grey t-shirt and sweat pants. He looked refreshed and much more relaxed than he had on set.

"I feel better now that I don't feel like a walking perfume stand." He chuckles to himself, the smile on his face further emphasizing how relaxed he is. "Sorry for making you wait," he trails off if not a bit sheepishly, "but the uh… sample headshots are this way." He points back into his bedroom before gesturing with his head for you to follow him.

You rose to follow after him automatically. You'd been in his room countless times by now, often visiting and requesting the use of his facilities. The only difference now being you had just finished getting off to thoughts of him in his living room, and had sorta kinda kissed him earlier, _and_ you were basically in love with him now…

You'd have to make every attempt to be normal so he wouldn't question why –

"You're awfully quiet. Is… everything ok?" His eyes flicker back to you as he approaches the desk in his room.

Well, shit.

"Yeah! I'm f-fine. Just thinking about some things I have to do today," … _like masterbate again once you got home_. You voice hardly wavered though, thank goodness for that.

"Oh, so you have plans? I was hoping that…" His hands busied themselves with pulling the new photos from a large envelope the director had given him and finding a felt-tipped sharpie from a cup holder, "… well, nevermind."

He signs two of the headshots, one for Yoosung and the other for Jaehee. His flowing script unmistakable and so him. A little message along with a signature adorn each photo: 'Play games less – get a girlfriend' and 'For my biggest fan'

You can't help but smile and roll your eyes at how, even on a headshot, he takes the opportunity to reprimand Yoosung.

He swivels and hands the finished pictures to you, raking a hand through his hair and down his neck.

"Hey! Don't I get one?" Sure you hadn't asked until now, but you had kind of hoped he'd know you'd want one as well after going through all this trouble.

His eyes alight immediately and a broad smile lifts his cheeks, "Of course!"

You watch as he scribbles out a lovely "Thanks for everything, babe" and signs it with a flourish.

He passes the photo to you with a smile and a wink, causing your cheeks to burn.

"Thank you. Yoosung and Jaehee will appreciate these!"

"Anytime." Suddenly the air surrounding you both is awkward again.

"Well, I should, uh, get going. Thanks again." You aren't sure why you did it, but before you even know what you're doing you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek… only you miss his cheek entirely and kiss just along the curve of his jaw meeting his chin.

You pull back in shock to see his eyes a little widened at the action, his cheeks growing rosy. You notice your lips have left a very faint red kiss mark once again on his skin.

Your eyes elevate to look at him, only to find he's focused on your lips, pupils dilated, his own lips slightly parted.

The hand not holding his headshots rushes up to hastily wipe away the rouge shade from his chin. At the last second, you suddenly remember just before touching him that your elevated hand was the hand you'd only just intimately touched yourself with. You go to pull it back before his warm palm wraps around your wrist, holding it in place just inches from his face.

He takes a step closer, his imposing height causing you to tilt your head back to look up at him, your chests almost brushing.

"I want to kiss you." His tone is raspy and hesitant. You hadn't expected him to be so blunt in saying outright what he wanted, but your heart leapt at the idea of him wanting the same thing.

"Kiss me." The words fall from your lips, so soft you question if he's even heard them.

His tightened grip on your wrist lets you know he has, licking his own lips at the sound of your words.

"If I do…" a sharp inhale, "I'll want more…" Even as he says it, his head is dipping slowly to yours. His whisper sets your heart racing, your chest contracting in anticipation. You won't want him to stop once he does kiss you though and find yourself voicing so.

"So will I..." Your eyes refuse to stray from his, watching as his pupils dilate further and a flicker of arousal glimmers in them.

He releases your wrist, bringing both of his hands to cup your face before his mouth finally descends upon your own.

 _This_ is a kiss. His lips are soft as they press and brush against yours. You return the pressure, mimicking his motions, pulling a lip between yours before pulling away and puckering again for more. The light smacking sounds of the repeated soft little kisses is the only noise in the room. His thumbs gently sweep across your cheeks.

Slowly the pressure and need of his kiss transitions to something deeper and more sensual. His mouth opens a little wider with each wave of his lips. At the first light brush of the tip of his tongue against your lower lip, your hands drop the headshots you're still holding to cling to him, pulling yourself closer.

With a groan, his tongue slips between your lips, brushing against your teeth asking for the kiss to deepen. It takes you but a moment to comply, opening your mouth wider, bringing your tongue forward to meet his before he presses against it firmly to fully delve into your mouth.

One of his hands travels to the nape of your neck to hold you in place while his other brushes down your body, briefly making contact with your breast before slipping under your arm that's coiled around him to press at the small of your back, clasping the fabric of your shirt.

This kiss is assured and skilled, leaving no room for argument about his affections for you, making your heart soar and breath hitch. His tongue weaves and bobs, teases and demands, slides and pulls.

A hand at his back travels up, pressing and sliding against the defined muscles before weaving into the hair at the base of his ponytail, fingers catching along the band restraining the locks.

He emits a growl into your mouth, his grasp around you tightening to the point of almost rendering you unable to breathe, the thrash of his tongue more brutal and demanding.

You tug on the hair band, pulling it down the length of his ponytail until it completely slips past the end, releasing the flowing locks against his back. You drop the band uncaringly, working and weaving your hand up his back again through the soft tendrils until you grasp the base of his head tightly.

In an instant he has you pressed against the wall with a grunt, the force of which knocks the breath from you and has you ripping your lips away from him to gasp for air. A muscular thigh drives between yours, pressing against your apex severely.

His mouth drops to bite and suck along the skin of your jaw, dipping to your neck to swipe a broad lick up the column of your throat. Your head falls back for him, the hand previously at your nape slipping to your front to press against your clavicle before dropping lower to soundly cup a breast and squeeze. His kisses are loud, lewd, and slick. His groans bordering on growls.

Your body reacts for him willingly, nipple hardening beneath his palm, pelvis rolling along his thigh pressing closer and feeling his erection brush against you.

His steely arousal siphons moans from you, your fingers coiling tighter in his hair, gripping the shirt at his back so fiercely you may stab holes through it.

His hips rut against yours frantically. His hands momentarily leave you before you suddenly feel them again tugging at your thighs, gripping behind them and suddenly your feet aren't on the floor as your legs are pulled to open wide and wrap around his hips.

To steady yourself, both of your arms wrap tightly around his neck until his hands settle decidedly on your hips, holding you in place securely as he continues his slow grinding against you.

"Uhhn, ha… ah… ah… ah… _again_ …" A delicious noise falls from him directly beside your ear with each thrust of his hips against yours.

"Z-Zen, mmm, a-ah! A-again?" You don't understand his meaning.

"My, ah… ha-ah-air. Hair. Pull it." You've never heard his voice sound so deep and scratchy. It sends a shiver down your spine and causes your cunt to flutter spastically. You use your glutes as best you can to grind your hips against his in your current position, but his hands are so tight along your hips holding you in place as he uses you for his pleasure.

Through your hazy desire your hands scramble and tangle back into his hair, twisting the longer strands betwixt your fingers before giving a tug so strong his head snaps back and his neck is bared for you just below your head.

"AH! AHHHNN!" His hips crash to yours, pressing in hard and stilling. His body shivers, the vibrations of it tingling your thighs and nipples. You feel your own wetness seep out steadily into your panties. His head is still thrown back, eyes clenched shut, mouth open in silent prayer. He's beautiful… and so fucking hot.

You leave one hand in his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers. Your other hand slides down his neck and over his shoulder, until you're pressing at the hollow of his throat. With his neck bared for you, you slip your lips down the pale column, dragging the tip of your tongue along the expanse of delicious skin. You feel his muscles shift and contract as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing against your cheek.

His body has stopped moving all-together, his hips pressed intimately to yours, his hands supporting your weight at the level of your hips.

You start with light kisses, sporadic and spread out, basking in his moans when you land on a particularly sensitive spot – just below his ears, below the left side of his jaw, the dip at the base of his neck, where his shoulder meets his neck.

Then your kisses become wet and open, again sporadic and unplanned, but always returning and focusing on those spots where he gave the greatest reactions.

Next you mingle in the drag and pull of your teeth, thrilling in his shivers and panting.

When your bite becomes rougher, his weak voice calls out, "I… have a, ahhh, shoot t-tomorrow… don't… leave a – ah yeaaah…" his voice fades off in a sigh.

Make-up exists for a reason.

Focusing on his pulse point, you take a healthy bite of flesh and suck his skin into your mouth. You press your legs tighter against him and roll your hips, a hiss leaving his lips as he gets the hint to grind into you once more.

The bump and grind of both yours and his hips is slower again, smoother.

His soft moans are deposited in your ear as you bite and suck along his neck, only focusing on a spot long enough to leave a blemish before moving on to the next. Occasionally his tongue will sneak out and stroke along the shell of your ear, creating shivers of your own.

It's his voice that finally brings you to a halt.

"I want you." It's spoken so quietly, almost brokenly, a soft ragged exhale that practically has no conviction in it at all. You lift your lips from his neck to look down into his eyes and see the sincerity swimming behind his irises.

"I've wanted you for so long. I want every part of you. You drive me crazy and… and I… everyone knows! Everyone knows but you never showed any sign that you wanted me back so I started to give up, thinking you didn-"

You cut off his rambling with a kiss, your hand lovingly caressing his face, thumb gently stroking along his jaw as you fall into him when he surrenders his mouth to you. His groan slips past your lips as your tongue traverses past his teeth, mingling with his.

You didn't know. You'd hoped, but you didn't know he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. How long had you both wasted being apart?

Your grip on him tightened considerably, your arms and legs locking like vices around his body, showing you wanted him.

You pulled back from the kiss, resting your forehead against his as you tried to calm your breathing. His soft panting washed over your lips and cheeks. When you finally opened your eyes it was to see his own staring up at you, flickering back and forth between yours, a questions lingering in them.

Do you want me too? Is this real? Am I just a fling for you?

"I didn't know you wanted me too…" Your voice is soft but happy, your lips brushing against his swollen spit-slick ones as you spoke.

His eyes and lips break out in a smile as he hears your response, "Babe, I'm not _that good_ of an actor. It was pretty obvious. Even Trust Fund knows…" His tone is back to being husky and confident, no longer hesitant and unsure.

You're so happy for a moment all you can do is hug him, squeezing him so tight that he actually gasps and chuckles against your neck. His hands along your hips move to wrap around you returning the hug in full-force of his own.

The ache between your legs pulls you from the intimate moment making you picture an even deeper intimate moment you'd prefer to have at present.

You turn your head scantly and drag the tip of your tongue down curvature of Zen's ear, basking in his moan and shiver, before whispering, "Show me. Show me how you want me."

The reaction you receive is instantaneous. With a growl his lips find yours as his hands dip beneath your shirt to touch and play with the bare skin of your sides. Your legs slip from around his hips until you're standing on your own again, never once breaking the kiss.

You tug the hem of his shirt higher up along his body until he complies with your silent request and pulls away from your mouth long enough to rip it over his head and toss it behind him uncaringly.

His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide as he reaches down for the hem of your shirt and mirroring your motions just moments before. With a giggle you raise your arms above your head as he divests you of the offending shirt, it too following an unknown trajectory over his shoulder.

From there it's a rushed chaotic scramble to remove the remaining clothing as he tries to kiss along your bare skin as it's revealed to him. Laughter spills from you both as he almost trips out of his sweatpants. Curses fall from his lips as he yanks down your jeans, mumbling words that sound vaguely like "skin tight." A groan rumbles from your throat when you see his prominent bulge restrained in his briefs.

Your hands reach out to brush his sides, his abdomen clenching at the direct contact of your hands. Your eyes lazily take in the sight of his perfectly sculpted body, for once allowing yourself to linger and appreciate now that you're able.

"I was… a little jealous," you brought your hand up to slowly graze against his abdomen feeling all the dips and tight muscles clench beneath your fingertips, "when all the models were touching you…"

You weren't even technically "with Zen" yet. Was it too soon to show you were jealous, even if it was only a little?

His facial expression gave no hint to his inner thoughts. His hands reaching out for your wrists, clasping both gently before bringing your hands to rest along his clavicles, dragging them slowly down to the level of his pectorals before letting go and dropping his hands to his sides.

"Wash their touch away then." There's no smile, no mischievous gleam in his eyes. He's serious, giving you full access to touch him, to wipe away the touch of others, to leave trails of yourself behind.

Your hands ghost over his skin, following the sharp lines and contours noting how his breath hitches when you finger his Apollo's belt, how his stomach clenches when you trace his eight pack, how his nipples pucker when you graze them with your thumb nails gently.

The entire time he watches you silently, eyes traveling between your face and your hands mapping out his body. He stands still, a marble statue for your appreciation. Art deserved to be appreciated, admired, revered.

Your hands slide up to his neck, brushing lightly against the few love bites you've managed to leave on him, traveling down his broad shoulders and squeezing the muscles. His biceps are thick and firm even when not flexed.

You find yourself leaning forward, placing soft chaste kisses along him. His chest, the hollow of his throat, his shoulder, a bicep, dipping lower to kiss above his navel, lower to kiss a hip bone…

His breathing, once calm and steady, becomes a little more exaggerated.

Rising to your full height you use both hands to pull one of his much larger hands up to your lips. You kiss the back of it. He gasps. You kiss each proximal knuckle, lingering on the last before dragging your lips down his index finger to kiss the tip, tongue brushing out swiftly to lick the pad and catching the salty taste of his skin.

You have half a mind to genuflect and worship him with your mouth further, but there'll be time for that later.

Your hands return his to his side slowly, your fingers teasingly weaving between his own digits and squeezing before releasing him entirely.

Without looking up at his face, lest you be tempted to kiss him, you walk around to his back. He turns his head to follow you until you're out of sight from his peripheral before he faces forward once more becoming the beautiful immobile statue again.

Your hands wander along the expanse of his back, sliding between his shoulder blades, dipping into the dimples at the small of his back, slipping down his spine. He's perfectly sculpted everywhere. Not a single muscle neglected.

You appreciate this region of his body with kisses as well. A kiss along the nape of his neck, a shoulder, between scapula, a brief lick down his spine, a kiss for each dimple.

Once you feel you've satisfied yourself with revering his form, you walk around the front of him again to see his lips parted as he breathes, his eyes closed, face completely relaxed.

When he notes the absence of your touch his eyes flutter open, gazing down at you before a small smile spreads across his plush lips.

Now that you've washed away the touch of others, you want to touch him in an entirely different way.

He manages to stop your hands before you can reach for his briefs, smiling wickedly at you and backing you up against the wall once again. The cool contact of the wall against your heated skin has you arcing your back, pushing your chest against Zen as he presses closer.

"I believe I was supposed to show _you_ , how _I_ want you…" His mouth drops along your shoulder, where he sprinkles a trail of wet kisses along the skin down to the swell of your breasts. Deft and nimble fingers slither behind your back to unclasp your bra, the straps draping down your upper arms. His lips leave your skin to watch up close as he coaxes the material down and off your arms, leaving your chest exposed to him entirely.

Suddenly his hands are everywhere, on your thighs, grasping your neck, sliding across your abdomen, dragging down your spine as his mouth opens and accepts a pert nipple. His moan against your breast leaves you squirming for more. His cheeks hollow out to suck more of your breast into his mouth, tongue flicking rapidly across your nipples before dragging his head back and pulling your breast taunt before releasing you with a pop. Your hands grasp at his shoulders, flexing, nails digging into the skin there. He licks his way across to your other breast, circling the nipple with his tongue before giving it the same treatment as the other. The sensation of his cooling saliva on your skin makes you shiver against him, his hands tightening on you as he feels it.

Your hips begin to rock against nothing, your thighs pressing together to create their own friction as you wiggle in Zen's arms. You try to guide his hand to your sex but when he's almost made contact he slips his hand away from yours and slides his palm elsewhere, a smile on his lips as he continues to ravish your breasts. His loud sucking wet sounds are unabashed and hot.

"Zen…" Your voice is husky and weak already as you say his name. His reply is a moan against your breast and a broad lick across your nipple as his mouth releases the skin. He looks up at you, lips slightly parted and coated in shiny saliva, eyes half-lidded as if he's already drunk off your body.

He leans up from his slightly crouched position swiftly, taking your lips in a kiss. His lips are slick as they slide across yours, his tongue delving into your mouth with a groan and licking at you. His fingers glide down your sides leaving gooseflesh in their tracks until he's kissing your more firmly and pulling your panties off your hips until they fall into a heap on the floor around your ankles.

One hand travels up your body slowly, tweaking a nipple as it passes, before cradling your face and changing the angle of the kiss. His tongue dives deeper, makes broader strokes against your own, catches your tongue and sucks on it. While you're distracted with his kiss, the hand resting on your hip slides to the juncture of your thighs and confidently slips between your folds to brush against your clitoris.

The sensation has you moaning into Zen's mouth, his hand tightening in the locks of your hair to hold your mouth to his as his tongue laps up your noises. Each stroke has you whimpering, hips rocking steadily against his fingers which feel decidedly cooler against your heated labia.

He pulls away from the kiss, panting into your mouth as he continues to stroke you. You nip at his lips occasionally through your gasp and sighs as he works your pleasure higher and higher.

He watches as you wiggle and squirm against his fingers, desperate for another release. His eyes are hazy, unfocused, and slow to blink. The color is high on his cheeks… all just from touching you. It's thrilling and devastating all at once.

His fingers become more adventurous, sliding further along you until they dip into you entirely in one slick motion. It feels so good to finally be filled with _something_. Your head bows back, your back arcing, a loud moan falling from your open mouth before Zen dips to press his lips to your again as if he wishes to drink every noise you make. Your hand slides down his arm until you're holding his wrist between your thighs. Gripping as hard as you can, he stills his motions, lips pulling from yours in question, fingers still inside of you, thumb at your clitoris working in small circles coming to a slow halt.

Your other hand at his shoulder slips into his hair, fingers once again tangling in the silvery tresses to pull his lips closer once again. Your tongue flicks out, licking at his open lips before his own tongue slips out from his mouth meeting yours in open air to slide against yours. He holds his tongue out for you so well, desperate for more of what you're willing to offer. You pucker your lips and press a soft kiss to the underside of his tongue before he coils it back into his mouth where you readily follow after with your own. He smiles into the kiss as you take control, twisting and rolling with him slowly.

Now that you have him, you tighten your grip on his wrist and rock your hips up and down on his fingers, a lusty moan leaving you as he locks his fingers still. He pulls his lips from you to look down between your bodies as you hold him steady to fuck yourself, small pants leaving him in awe.

He seems content to let you use him as you wish, his lips drifting to your neck to kiss up and down.

"You're so wet for me." He licks the shell of your ear as he scissors his fingers inside of you as you thrust, sighs and whimpers spill from you as your forehead falls to his shoulder, your hips rolling faster.

"I like watching you fuck yourself with my fingers." He rolls his thumb along your clitoris, the sharp pang of arousal causing you to bite hard on your lower lip.

"I want you to make yourself cum with my hand…" Your whimpers and the slapping of wet skin against his palm mingles with his whispered filthy words in your ear.

"…and then I'm going to make you cum again with my mouth," He sucks your earlobe into his mouth. His confident chuckle is immediately followed with ragged breaths along your neck as a tremor works through his body, his hips jerking to bump into your hand. Your body tenses as your hips hump his fingers faster, your feet rising to stand on tip-toe.

"Then," he pauses to swallow and catch his breath, "I'm going to throw you onto my bed and fuck you until my headboard breaks…" He presses harshly on your clit, a screaming leaving you before you can stop it. You lose your rhythm but he's there to maintain it for you, the strength of his arm overpowering your hold on his wrist with ease as he takes over once again and massages his fingers in and out of you. His fingers curl to rub precisely leaving you quivering. His free arm wraps around you, holding you to him and supporting your weight as your back begins to bow and drape over his forearm, toes curling in the carpet beneath you.

He's done this before; the thought flickers through your mind. He's too good at this, knowing where to touch, _how_ to touch, where to kiss, how to hold you…

It only takes one more husky whisper from him into your ear before you break apart, "I've dreamt of you cumming in my arms..."

You felt like you were shattering into pieces, the sweep of pleasure spreading from your spastic cunt to your limbs and extending to the tips of your hair. Your vision went white and you allowed your eyes to clamp shut, strong arms holding you, teeth and tongue at your neck as his own moans reverberated across your skin, your mouth open in a silent scream as your body flexed and jerked without coordination. Your nails found purchase along his skin, dragging across the pliant flesh of his back, leaving him groaning at the delicious sting of pain and rutting his hips against you.

His fingers didn't stop their motions, his thumb almost punishing against your clitoris as he sought every drop of your pleasure. You tried the squirm away, the pleasure bordering on pain from the overstimulation, but he wouldn't budge.

His lips hungrily lapped and swam across your throat, mumbling senseless words until you were coherent enough to make them out. "Only dream," "ever wanted," "true" filtered through your ears leaving you to guess the fillers.

His slick fingers pulled from your core. Though moments ago you had been wiggling to pull away from them, the loss left you aching to be filled and touched again. Your eyes drew open slowly to see his magnificent lust-drunk expression only a few inches in front of you. His arousal-soaked fingers came up to his lips, his slick pink tongue weaving from his mouth to lick up his knuckles before dipping those fingers fully into his mouth to suck on them.

You could only watch in silence and awe, arousal sliding down your inner thighs. His eyes swept over your face as he sucked you off of his digits with a very satisfied hum.

With a delicious slurp he pulled his fingers from the confines of his mouth and brought his slick hand to clasp your naked hip. He made to lean in as if to kiss you, only for a thinly-veiled smile to appear before he dodged your lips and began to press quick-fire kisses along your chin, down your neck, your chest, going lower and lower still.

"Tease…" your voice hardly above a whisper after having had him rip an orgasm from you not moments ago.

You felt his smile widen against the skin of your stomach where his lips were littering kisses as he dropped to his knees before you, his hands effectively holding you at your hips.

"I told you what would come next, babe." His eyes flicked to look up at you and hold eye contact as he pressed a lingering kiss to your mons. In reflex, your hand came up to entwine in the strands of his hair, the action a mixture of holding yourself steady as your legs trembled beneath your weight and pulling him closer.

He let out a low growl and heated exhale that emanated across your still overly sensitive aroused flesh.

" _Careful._ " His eyes bore into you but you weren't sure if the warning was for himself… or for you.

If he intended to taste you in this position you weren't sure your legs would be able to hold your weight. Your body already felt weak from the lapse of two orgasms, heavy and boneless. If it weren't for Zen's hands on you, you were sure you'd be a puddle on the floor.

Your trepidation must have shown across your face or in the grip of his hair because not a second later his hand slide down your hip to your bare thigh. His fingers gripped the plush skin there, pulling gently to coax your leg to rest over his shoulder, calf falling across his back.

The new position shifted your hips to a new angle and brought your already drenched lips closer to his mouth. Purposely, he opened his lips wider and exhaled across your sensitive flesh, delighting himself in the tight roll of your hips and small moan from your throat.

"Don't worry," his lips brushed against your labia as he spoke, picking up the moisture of your arousal, causing them to glisten, "I've got you." His voice was heady. His eyes slipped shut just before delved in.

The initial dip of his tongue between your folds had you clenching both hands into fists at the top of his head, greedy in grasping fistfuls of silvery-white hair. His lusty moan in reply was a low filthy sound that had blood rushing past your ears, leaving you dizzy in its aftermath.

He wasted no time with courtesies of getting his mouth slowly acquainted with you. His tongue and lips slid over you with wild abandon, suckling, kissing, pulling, and nipping at your flesh. You resisted jerking your hips, precarious in your unconventional position half draped over him, yet standing, but soon the delicious repetitive slide of his tongue against your clitoris had you pressing his head closer and rolling your hips against him as gasps and a broken laugh left you.

"Zen, ohhh, yeah ah… I – ahhh," He seemed encouraged by your noises, his tongue pressing harder with each new little sound you made.

Your additional weight against him had him leaning back slightly yet no protest fell from his lips – either because said lips were too busy creating sinful noises and sensations between your legs or he just did not seem care or notice. His own noises were lewd and wet. The press of his fingers against your hips tightened as you continued to roll your hips along his mouth. His lips and tongue were relentless in pushing your arousal higher as he circled and sucked on your clitoris. His long tongue traveled further down in tiny spirals before probing at your vaginal entrance and pressed inside a miniscule distance, a tease, before pulling back to lick broadly along your labia again and sucking hard on your clitoris.

Your head tipped back as you squealed and shivered. His moan of approval sank into your skin and settled as a burning warmth in your lower belly.

Looking down on him you felt your chest contract as flickering tingles seemed to spread from your heart to the tips of your limbs. His eyes were still shut, cheeks rosy pink, brows relaxed; he was desperately enjoying this.

You felt the promise of a pending orgasm tighten within your lower belly the longer he lapped and sucked along you. Watching him enjoy himself seemed to pleasure you just as much. Your hips began to rut against him faster taking over the pace entirely as your fingers gripped his hair tighter to hold him steady. A groan left him as you used him once again for your pleasure. He stopped moving his head and lips entirely, leaving his mouth open, tongue out against your core as you frantically rubbed yourself along it seeking a harder friction and faster pace.

His eyes flashed open to look up at you as you worked yourself along his hot tongue. His eyes were clouded with lust, only a thin line of visible ruby circling his pupils. He groaned again, deep & guttural as he watched you. His hands tightened on your hips, now aiding you in rolling faster and harder against his mouth.

Sweat rolled down your body from the exertion of multiple orgasms and the strain of holding yourself in an awkward position for so long. You could feel moisture rolling between your breasts, down your lower back, across your brow. You felt drenched between your legs, a mixture of saliva and arousal that was hot and sticky. Zen's lips, tongue, and chin were coated in the mixture yet he looked as if he'd rather be nowhere else in this moment with his head bent back to accommodate your position, his eyes saturated with lust.

Your own keening mewls and high-pitched gasps crescendoed in intensity. You were so close. He was so good. The trembles in your legs became more intense, leaving you on the verge of almost collapsing.

"Ahhhnn, yes, oh God. Zen. Zen, make me cum. Make me cum!" You sounded so needy, so desperate.

With a finite adjustment of his lips the pressure applied to your clitoris increased, his tongue and teeth lightly nipping and pulling on it. The delicious scratch of his teeth along the hood of your clitoris was enough to release your third orgasm that evening.

You cried out again, letting go of his hair with one hand to cover your own mouth, muffling the scream that escaped you when he continued to lick at you. Your lower body jerked so violently that if it weren't for the strength of his arms you would have collapsed over him and onto the floor. His hands reached up swiftly to grasp at your waist and hold you tighter in place.

Even through the rush of orgasm you could feel him smile against your skin as he sucked on that sensitive nub that sent shockwaves of electric pleasure all over your body.

His tongue swiveled through your folds, unabashedly drinking up your slickness as if he were _thirsty_ , hands gripping your sides with a bruising force just to keep you in place as he assaulted you.

In a rush his mouth left you, pulling your leg to the side from across his shoulder, as he rose to his feet. His arms swiftly wrapped around you to hold you steady as you swayed and staggered from asked to once again support yourself. He was panting with his mouth agape, the fluids of your orgasm shining across the pale skin of his chin and lips as he leant into you.

Lazily you tilted your head up to glide your tongue and lips across his chin, sucking and licking off your arousal, teasing his lips every so often. For the moment he is content to let you clean him, occasionally opening his lips wider to welcome a fleeting warm stroke of your tongue into his mouth.

His burning erection pressed against you never passed your notice. Suddenly you felt a near desperate urge to touch him, feel him, to have him crumble and break apart in your hands just as you had for him. You needed to see if the imaginary images you'd conjured in your head over the past few months of him in the throes of orgasm were true. Was he as beautiful as you imagined? Head thrown back, mouth open in a long deep drawn out moan, vessels in his neck straining beneath his skin? How would the sweat glitter and travel across his body? Would he hide his face when he found release or hold eye contact until the last possible moment?

Not allowing him any time to contemplate what you were after, your hands whipped down to grasp the edges of his briefs and slid them rapidly over the curve of his ass, his hard cock springing free as a groan left his mouth.

Even his member was beautiful; long, thick, and straight as an arrow. A thickened drop of milky precum slid down the head as his cock twitched under your heated gaze.

With just kissing, grinding, and going down on you he was already so hard. The head of his cock was a brilliant glistening pink color that left your mouth salivating. You weren't the least bit surprised that he was also entirely bare, his body devoid of hair. Every inch of his skin dusted an alabaster sheen, silky and smooth to the touch. You figured his cock would feel no different and were anxious to confirm your suspicions.

Pulling your fingertips back up from where you had yanked down his underwear, you let your nails rake up the length of his thigh delighting in his abdomen clenching, his hips rolling towards you, and his cock twitching as another bead of precum appeared and wept down his head.

The noise he made when you finally wrapped your palm solidly around his cock was far better than any your imagination could have conjured.

"Ahh-ahhn," he hissed through his teeth as his cock jumped in your hand.

His deep guttural moans became muffled against your skin as he let his head fall into your shoulder. His cock was hard and heavy in your fist, his breath wet and hot against the bare skin of your shoulder as his body tensed and shivered.

You stroked your hand up his cock, catching the trail of precum that had begun to slide down the underside, and basked in the jerk of his hips into your palm. Gripping him tighter now that you had gather some lubrication you began to set a steady pace, each little twist and pull of your wrist equally twisting and pulling delicious noises from his throat. You watched a new drops of precum were milked from him, slow and steady.

"Fu-fuuuck, yeaaah, like that babe, ah… AH!" He was so vocal, so responsive.

He was a showman through & through.

His lips and teeth began to nibble and travel up the length of your neck. His teeth would sink into your flesh, he'd moan when you gave a particularly hard pump of his cock, his tongue would lave when you teased his head, he'd shiver when the tips of your fingers brushed over his testicles…

A few pumps more of his cock and his hands were diving into your hair, pulling your head back so he could kiss you properly. His tongue sank into your mouth without preamble, harshly pressing against yours before stroking in and out of your mouth in a lewd display of hopeful actions to come.

Your fist worked against him faster now, his hips arcing back and forth to match the pace you'd set for him, his moans dispensed directly into your mouth.

His lips against yours could hardly be called a kiss now. The palms of his hands slid down to cup the sides of your face, holding you steady for him as he pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes were shut tight, mouth open to pant and choke on a chuckle here and there as you worked him. He sang a musical chorus of "yes" "again" "oh god" and "please" that would have likely been a hit single if it'd been released for public consumption.

When you tightened your fist again, his eyes flashed open and his hand shot down to your wrist to gently pull you off of him.

"Not," he sounded out of breath, "not yet. Bed." You'd reduced him to short clipped sentences but each word was laced with lust and a neediness you knew you'd never tire of hearing.

He pressed another kiss to your mouth, working your lips open with his own and tremoring when your slick tongue reached out to brush against his. He pressed back again, harder than last time, his hand traveling to your hip to push you backward.

When you took a step back, he followed leading you closer to his bed, smiling against your lips as he continued to slide his tongue within the confines of your mouth.

He made true on his promise to toss you onto his bed, pulling his mouth from yours abruptly as both of his hands found purchase at your sides and lifted you to send you falling.

He wasted no time in bending to pull of his briefs from around his thighs before he quiet literally crawled his way over to you on his sheets. His lower lip was caught between his teeth, sweat slicked along his body, his eyes smoldering with a near crazy passion focused solely on you. Long tendrils of his hair slipped and clung to his shoulders and upper arms as he prowled.

Though he was no more than 4 feet away from you when he started, it was as if he moved in slow motion. The flex and bend of his muscles was sinewy and seductive. He was hypnotizing and ethereal.

You reached out with one hand, desperate in the need to touch him, to reassure yourself that he was real, that he was here. His lower lip fell from his teeth as he smiled briefly, suggestively, before turning his face to press a wet kiss along the pad of your palm before he slipped lower to graze his teeth and nip at the skin of your inner wrist. His bangs fell across his eyes, blocking the hypnotic gaze of them. You took a deep breath, suddenly realizing you hadn't inhaled once since he'd dropped you onto the bedding, your mind far too distracted with the angel in front of you to worry about simple necessities such as breathing, effectively leaving you dizzy.

His lips traveled higher up your arm, his hair falling over his bent form to slither across your thighs, abdomen, and chest as he crawled and kissed further up your body. The soft strands left trailing tingles as they brushed across you, leaving you squirming, a few whimpers slipping from your lips.

He wove his tongue in random patters across your shoulders and down your chest to circle one nipple and then the other, moaning when you moaned, panting against the slick saliva lines he'd left behind. His strong arms caged you in beneath him.

He let out a low growl and nudged your head back with the tip of nose, diving onto the skin of your neck to suck and bite. You turned your face to the left, granting him access to more of the length of your neck when you finally saw it…

A large wall-sized mirror perfectly positioned to give a full view of the bed and those on it. You'd noticed the mirror before in his room but never had you considered it for this purpose, thinking perhaps Zen had used it when practicing lines or perfecting the movements of the characters he was portraying. Now that you had a view of the mirror from this vantage point there was no doubt this was its _true_ purpose, to provide this exact view. He liked _watching_.

Your eyes roamed over the figures you saw reflected back at you. You met your own eyes, seeing them blown wide but bright. Your hair was tussled, lips plump from kisses, body slick with sweat. Your hands were plastered to Zen's back, fingers splayed above the muscles that stretched beneath them with each little motion he performed. Your legs were parted to allow room for his form to be between them. You'd never seen yourself in such a way but couldn't find yourself to be disturbed or put off. If anything you looked _good_. Happy. Seductive. Positively sinful.

Zen noticed you had stilled beneath him, raising his head to look at you before turning to follow your gaze and meeting your eyes in the mirror before his expression turned smug. He took a moment to let his eyes skim over the reflection, a filthy smile adorning his features before he turned back to continue assaulting your neck, a sharp gasp leaving you when he sucked a little harder than you were expecting.

His breath wafted up to your ear before his lips brushed along the lobe and he whispered, "I knew you'd look good in passion." He finished with a flourish, a swift lick across the edge of your ear, before he pushed to sit up on his knees between your legs and gazed down at you.

He ran his hands down your front, thumbs brushing across your collar bones then palming and squeezing your breasts before tweaking each nipple a few times. Each press and glide of his soft hands had you swaying and bending into him, your body arcing into his touch, pressing closer.

You weren't sure if he was speaking to your or himself as he pet along you.

"So beautiful," a squeeze of your breast. "More than I imagined," a scratch of his nails across your nipple.

Next he ghosted his hands down your hips pulling you inches closer to him, your thighs coming to rest along his spread ones. Your most intimate areas were almost touching, the heat achingly obvious and charged between his throbbing cock and the folds of your cunt.

You wanted him, that much was certain. You already felt wrung out from the three orgasms you'd already managed to achieve that you weren't sure you'd be able to have another, but that didn't stop the rush of arousal spilling from you as you watched him.

He put on a little show for you, rolling his hips to jostle your thighs on his momentarily. He ran his hands through his hair, down his neck, across his chest and down his abdomen. His cock jumped as his hand got closer to his groin until he finally wrapped slender fingers around himself. His head fell back, eye slipping closed, with a deep sigh. His hips and shoulders rolled seductively as he pumped himself for you to watch, slow and torturous. Your cunt fluttered and ached as you admired him, the roll of your hips and whimper from your throat involuntary. His back arced, hair falling from his shoulders to slip behind him, as he continued his beautiful display of masterbating for you.

Soon he had you as impatience defined, the roll of your hips more persistent.

You allowed your fingers to slip between your legs and press against your clit, "Zeeeen, please. Stop, ohhh stop teasing," you sounded needy and whiney but didn't care.

Your legs wrapped around him and tugged, hoping he'd he lulled from his rapture to focus his attentions on you once again. His hand along his cock still as he looked down at you, teasing yourself between your thighs, your other hand tweaking your nipples as your body undulated and rolled on his sheets.

His eyes blazed as he watched, mouth open in awe.

"Mmm, I could watch you touch yourself all day," his tone was breathless as his hands dropped to your thighs to press into the muscles there and rub up and down. "So you liked my show then?" His eyes were lust-drunk, his gaze not straying from the swirl of your fingers, but his smirk was cocky.

"Very much but – ahh," your hips stuttered, "I'd rather you to-touch me."

He licked his lips, eyes finally rising to meet yours, "Whatever my lady desires."

He leant over you to dig briefly in the bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and tearing into the package with his teeth before rolling it onto himself swiftly. His hand gently clasped your wrist to pull your hand away from your wet center as he shuffled closer, your thighs risings and spreading wider across his hips as he stayed in an upright position still sitting on his knees.

He grabbed his cock and nudged the head to part your folds, running it up and down the seam to collect your moisture, a shaky exhale leaving him. The heat of him was burning. You felt drunk on the sight of him watching as he eased himself into you. His eyes held such wild ardor in their flaming gaze. His eyes held such longing that the sight of it made something snap inside of you and come to life all at once.

There was pressure. A groan. A stretch. Then he was buried to the hilt inside of you.

"Oh God," you bowed your back, the sensation of finally being filled with his girth beyond any pleasure you had felt yet. Your fingers fisted into the bed sheets for balance.

Zen raised himself onto his knees, confident in your ability to handle him. "I need you to come again. For me," he told you roughly, his voice strained, sweat dripping down his body as his muscles tensed between your legs. "I want to _feel_ it."

"I… ohhh God, Zen, I don't know if I can…" He'd already taken so much from you, even an orgasm he didn't know about.

Another nudge and he brought you closer, lifting you by the pelvis off of his bed. His free hand grazed over your hip to just above your mound.

"Oh, but you can. _You will._ I can prove it," his sexual confidence was astounding.

His fingers dipped down into your aching swollen folds straight to the bundle of nerves at the hood of your sex. You thrashed wildly as he rubbed the heel of palm against your clit. You had a fleeting thought that he was right as you felt your body gearing up for another orgasm, your walls fluttering and pulling at him.

You rocked yourself on his cock, managing to slide yourself up and down his hardened slick shaft in such a way that you were rewarded with a groan and hardened press of his hand at your hip.

With one hand kept firmly paying homage to your clit, his free hand clasped your side as he eased you over his length, slow and steady. You hissed and mewled at the combination of pain and pleasure mingling – the straining bend of your back, the press of his palm against you, the stretch and glide of his cock in you.

It all felt so good, so achingly rapturous. Zen kept moving, his moans growing louder with each inward thrust. He kept moving until he had all but popped free of you and then slammed himself in to the hilt.

You howled, head thrown back against pillows, the clamp of your legs around his hips growing tighter as tremors quaked through you. He became relentless, driving into you over and over again all the while keeping one hand on your clit and pinching it in time with his demanding thrusts. His groaning near feral as he took pleasure from you.

His bangs were matted to his forehead in sweat as he gasped for air, never once stopping his pounding into you.

"You're there. I can feel it. Cu – uhn ahhhh," a full-body shiver ran through him as his pace faltered for but a second, "…cum for me. I need it. I need it." The hand at your side felt bruising as he pushed and pulled you harder against him, his thrusts frenzied. The headboard of his bed collided with the ball behind it in time with his thrusts, creaking with each spilled moan and every clench of your thighs.

You could feel it too. The deep coil in your abdomen, the flutter of your cunt, the tremors building in intensity of your legs. Any moment now he would once again have you over your threshold. With one more particularly sharp grind against your clit and a gratifying moan from your lover as you clenched around him, he had you coming apart.

"Zen. I – ZEN!" This time when your orgasm tore through you your vision went white and you screamed, not bothering to cover your mouth as you sang for him.

Zen rode the wave of your orgasm, falling on top of you to wrap you in his arms, his open mouth falling to your shoulder to bite and suck through his moans, as his hips rut faster to milk your orgasm to its fullest.

He only slowed as you came down from the high, aftershocks of quivers spreading throughout your limbs every so often as you clung to him. He finally stilled as he panted against your neck, swallowing every so often.

You felt beyond stated and sleepy, but the still hardened member inside of you caught your attention. You wiggled your hips beneath Zen, to which he gave a gasping moan into your shoulder and a jerk of his hips that left you flinching from the overstimulation.

You trailed your hands across his back up to the nape of his neck, fingers sliding into his sweat dampened hair to twirl the strands. He hadn't cum yet.

With what little strength you felt you had left, you pushed and rolled him onto his back. His shocked expression was quickly wiped away as you began to vigorously ride him, his features quickly defaulting to immense satisfaction and near disbelief.

"Oh shit, babe. Yeah, yeeeaah-aah. Ride me. _Fuck me_." He sounded absolutely desperate and needy, the deep inflection of his voice rumbling in his chest beneath your palms. His fingers alternated in varying pressures along your hips, your thighs, any skin he could grab purchase of to slam you down harder on his cock.

You needed to make him cum, to see his face in rapture. You need to see the one side of him that no amount of acting would ever be able to completely replicate.

Intentionally you flexed your walls around him, basking in his groan, in the vision of his eyes opening impossibly wide to stare at you in reverence. He dug his heels into the mattress, using the leverage of his legs to pound into you harder from below.

You dropped forward and pressed your sweat slicked body against his. One hand fisted into the pillow beside his head as the other wove into his hair… and pulled.

His reaction was immediate.

"Ahhh, I'm, oh fuck… ughnn, I can't…" He gave a long shout of your name as you felt him lose his rhythm, his hips slamming into you and stilling as he threw his head back and then moaned the loudest he had yet. His cheeks were flushed, eyes slipping shut, kiss-bitten mouth falling open as he gasped for air through his orgasm.

His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath you as his entire body went lax. His hands fell from your hips onto the bed, his legs, once bent at the knee, dropping haphazardly beneath you.

"Mmm, Zen," you busied yourself with depositing kisses along the column of his throat, burrowing your nose into the hairline at the nape of his neck. He smelled of sweat, sex, and his natural manly musk. He was entirely intoxicating. "That was my favorite performance of yours yet," you nibbled on his ear and gave another slight tug of his hair.

It was hard not to giggle when his softening cock inside of you jumped at the action and he gave a breathy moan.

"That won't be the last time you see it." Though his tone was light and sleepy, you felt the serious undertones of his statement, the words causing your stomach to somersault, a smile that hurt your cheeks slipping into place.

Your lips dropped a trail of kisses along his jawline to his mouth where he readily met yours in a long languid kiss. It wasn't rushed, it wasn't desperate. He let you explore his mouth before following in turn and slipping into yours. His arms finally once again came up to wrap around you as he rolled you both onto your sides.

He was slow the end the kiss, pulling away entirely before leaning in to once more lock lips with you, each kiss shorter than the last until he gave one final peck and leant his forehead against yours as he sighed.

With a gentle roll of his hips he pulled from you and quickly knotted and discarded his condom over the side of the bed before turning to face you once again and pulled you into his arms.

For several minutes you both just face one another, heads pillowed comfortably on downy fabric. Your fingers would occasionally dance along his sides, trailing along the valleys and ridges of his muscles. His own digits twirled and played with your hair.

He pulled you in with a solid press at the nape of your neck and dropped a long chaste kiss on your lips. When he pulled away and spoke, his lips continued to brush against yours and his eyes stayed closed.

"I think I…," he paused to swallow, his fingers tightening slightly in your hair, "I…"

You felt yourself hold your breath, fully anticipating a confession of love. Perhaps it was too soon for such heavy and serious emotions.

His eyes lazily opened to look at you. A close-lipped smile widened on his face.

"I think I'm going to keep you in my bed for the rest of the night." You felt yourself exhale with a giggle, your arms wrapping tighter around his middle and snuggling further into his embrace. Confessions of love could come later. For now though…

"I wouldn't mind that," you scrapped your teeth along his jaw after you whispered to him, nipping at his skin playfully. "I have a confession…"

He pulled his head back to look at you, eyebrow raised in question, his eyes holding a healthy dose of anticipation in their depths.

Even after everything you both just did together you couldn't look him in the eyes when you next spoke, your words coming out in a rushed jumbled mess.

"I sort of masterbated in your living room while you were in the shower earlier." You finished your spectacular mini speech by pressing your face into his neck, silently hoping he wouldn't react.

It started with an exhale ruffling your hair, then a low rumble you felt against your chest, before the vibrations of his laughter were tickling your nose pressed against him.

"Why are you – " He cut you and his laughter off by pressing a hard kiss onto you, his tongue easily slipping past your lips. He rolled until he was once again on top of you, his free hand sliding down to your thigh before pulling your leg up to wrap around his waist. You felt his cock stir against your thigh currently between his legs as he began to hump your leg casually as if this were a regular occurrence.

Not that you'd be opposed if it became one…

He pulled away from your lips with a resolute pop, the rocking of his hips increasing in intensity as his cock became harder.

"I have a confession too." He sounded entirely too pleased with himself and just a tad breathy.

He gave you a dazzling smile before he pressed his forehead to yours and said proudly, "I masterbated while I was in the shower."

Your laughter rang loud and bright until Zen set to work on coaxing otherwise from you.


End file.
